


FUCK IT. TRANS GERRY FIC.

by Bibliophage413



Category: Critical Bits (Podcast)
Genre: Accidental Self Harm, Gender Dysphoria, Mirrors, Repression, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, therapy is expensive we project our trauma onto fictional teens now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 18:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21396862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliophage413/pseuds/Bibliophage413
Summary: A trans boy Gerry deals with, or rather does his best not to deal with, dysphoria.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	FUCK IT. TRANS GERRY FIC.

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please I’m begging you to read the tags on this fic. This fic is real short but it gets heavy, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It had started with the hallway mirror. Actually, it had probably started a lot further back than that, but that fucking mirror was what stuck out in Gerry’s mind. It was a full length, slightly ovular mirror that had been left to Gerry’s mom by some distant aunt. Instead of selling it, Mrs. Gingham had hung it up at the end of the hall, where it sat ready to spook Gerry every time he walked to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Looking at his reflection was a thing Gerry had been trying not to do. He was 12 when it was first hung up, but puberty had already come in swinging like an acne covered baseball bat. And that fucking mirror, it stopped Gerry in his tracks nearly every damn time. It was transfixing. If he happened to catch his reflection in passing, his feet would get stuck to the floor and would stay stuck until his eyes figured out what was wrong with what they were seeing. His hips were too wide, his shoulders too narrow, his chest... _wrong_. 

Once, Gerry had stood in front of that mirror and held his hands over where his hips stuck out, trying to imagine what they would look like if they were narrower. He’d stared at himself, that version of himself for what felt like hours. Why was he doing this? What about this other Gerry in the mirror did he want so bad? For a moment he wished knives would grow out of his hands and cut off the excess, make the shape _right_. It was a dark thought, a thought that chilled him to the bone and made his heart beat fast with excitement all at once. It was interrupted by a sudden sharp pain, and when he pulled his hands away from his hips there were two thin, vertical red lines growing where his palms had been. He’d pushed that particular memory deep in the back of his mind. Only after 5 years, 1 file on his genome, and noticing the old scars as he was changing did it slide back to the front.

It should have been obvious. Normal, happy girls didn’t stand in front of their great aunt’s creepy mirror staring at themselves at 4 in the morning. Normal, happy girls didn’t wish so hard that they could cut parts of themselves off their hands literally turned into knives. Not even other boys could do that, Gerry was pretty sure. But Gerry was not exactly the most introspective person, so it festered. As middle school and then high school wore on, Gerry got a little quieter, a little more isolated, a little more angry. The worst part was he knew it was festering, watched it rot and poked it with a stick. Thinking about it, or worse: _doing something_ about it was way scarier to him than just pushing it out of his mind and hoping for the best. 

He was 14 when that stopped being possible. He was 14 when Alex, hands shaking and gaze averted said she thought she might be a girl, and that she hadn't told anyone else and she wasn't sure who else to talk to. And suddenly a dam burst in Gerry's mind. It all came rushing back at once. There were tears in his eyes as he said, “it’s funny you should mention that.”


End file.
